


Some Advantages of Plans A, B, and C

by j_s_cavalcante



Category: due South
Genre: Hypothermia, M/M, Sharing Body Heat, post CotW, tent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-29
Updated: 2010-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-06 19:52:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_s_cavalcante/pseuds/j_s_cavalcante
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser's Plan B is probably one of those necessary, standard-procedure things you do out on the trail like zipping two sleeping bags into one big one (which, that was Plan A), and Ray's got to trust him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Advantages of Plans A, B, and C

**Author's Note:**

  * For [visionshadows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/visionshadows/gifts).



Ray’s teeth are chattering so hard that when Fraser says “Perhaps we should rethink this plan,” Ray hardly hears him and has to ask him to say it again.

“What plan, Fraser?” Ray says. Even he can hear he’s sort of slurring, and that’s odd, that’s a little queer, because he sounds drunk, but he’s pretty darn sure there is no booze on this trip, never has been, though his head’s a little jumbled up right now, and he’s real, real tired.

“Our, er, sleeping…arrangements,” Fraser says. “We need to figure out a better method of keeping you warm, because the original plan is obviously not working.”

That is a lot of words for Ray to figure out, right there, especially seeing as he’s really, _really_ tired at this point. He yawns. “We got to rethink this plan,” he repeats. “Oookay. Make a new plan, Stan.” He sort of giggles, because that’s funny, that is. That is funny.

“Who is Stan?” Fraser asks suddenly.

“Huh?” Ray thinks for a minute. “Got no idea. I think…I used to know somebody went by that name, but he don’t go by that name no more.”

“Ah,” Fraser says after a pause, and this _ah _is one of those _ahs _that means something, and Ray can tell by the tone it is _not _something good. Something is not good in Mountie-land, there is trouble right here in River City, there is bad mojo in town, even though there’s not even a goddamn town within a zillion miles and Ray couldn’t swear at the moment that towns even exist, except he thinks that Chicago is real and that once he used to live there.

Right now it seems like a dream, though. That’s because the world isn’t streets and skyscrapers and trains rattling on the El anymore, and it isn’t smoky jazz pouring out of the open doorway of a bar on a side street near where Ray lives. Lived. Used to live. Well, the apartment, anyway, that he may or may not be going back to. The police work he may or may not ever do again.

Now the world’s all white and uncomplicated in the way it can only be when there’s nothing between you and not surviving but a tent and a sled and a bunch of dogs. Well, and Fraser. And really, out of all that stuff, Fraser’s the one thing Ray can’t do without.

If he could’ve done without Fraser, he wouldn’t be up here risking his skinny neck on an impossible quest for something no one’s ever going to find.

The fact is, Ray couldn’t even have survived Chicago any more, with the not-knowing-who-he-is problem. As long as he does know, he’s okay even on the tundra with really only luck and Fraser’s northern folklore wisdom preventing another plunge into an ice crevasse they’d never get out of this time.

Tonight they stopped early, though, because of Ray sounding drunk when he wasn’t and moving way too slow. Fraser kind of manhandled Ray then, pushing Ray in the tent and getting him out of his layers of clothes down to his long underwear and shoving him in the sleeping bag even though it wasn’t dark outside and they hadn’t cleaned up from dinner.

It’s actually warm in the tent tonight, or what Ray’s learned to call “warm,” anyway, which might not be the same thing. They’re zipped into their sleeping bag--one big one that fits both--and they’re in their woolies with socks, hats, and everything.

Fraser’s leaning down into the sleeping bag and pulling his socks off, and he’s telling Ray to take off his, too, and whaddya know? Fraser’s feet are really warm and they’re clasping Ray’s chilled ones and making them tingle.

“So that’s it?” Ray’s babbling. “This is Plan B? Playing footsie in the sleeping bag? Because I didn’t get that, I did not get that you were a footsie kind of guy, Fraser.”

“Sh, Ray, you’re blithering.”

Fraser’s hands are unbuttoning Ray’s longjohns now, and that’s--well, Jeez, _that’s _something Fraser’s never done before, and for a second, Ray jerks back and almost pulls away. But then he thinks that is D-U-M dumb, because Fraser’s hands are so warm on Ray’s chilled skin and Ray needs that warmth. He lets Fraser inch his longjohns down until they’re off.

“Okay, okay, new plan, Plan B,” Ray says, sort of to himself, getting himself with the program, here. He knows he’s a little colder than he should be, even though he can’t focus on that right now. So, really, Fraser’s Plan B is probably one of those necessary, standard-procedure things you do out on the trail like zipping two sleeping bags into one big one (which, that was Plan A), and Ray’s got to trust him.

Fraser must be doing something right, because Ray doesn’t feel any colder naked than he did in the longjohns, and there’s heat radiating off Fraser that Ray can feel on his skin. Ray lets his eyes close and he basks in the Fraser-warmth, so, yeah, there’s some advantages to Plan B already.

Fraser’s moving around and Ray cracks his eyelids open to see that Fraser’s tugging at his own longjohns and getting out of them, smooshing them down in the bottom of the sleeping bag with Ray’s. He’s pushing Ray’s feet down there with his to burrow in all that squishy warm wool.

“Good, that’s…that’s good, Frase,” Ray’s mumbling. He’s so close to nodding off. He feels Fraser’s hands on his face then, and--ouch! It stings! Fraser’s sort of slapping Ray’s cheeks--ouch! He rubs Ray’s ears with his thumbs and he rubs Ray’s hands with his rough, callused palms and fingertips, and it’s annoying, it’s waking Ray up. Ray swats at Fraser’s hand half-heartedly, but underneath somewhere he knows he really doesn’t want Fraser to stop.

Ray feels Fraser’s warmth seeping into him and a deep ache starting somewhere. He doesn’t know what it is, doesn’t even know if the ache’s in his body or somewhere else. It’s not like the pain you get when you wake up frostbitten toes. He knows he doesn’t have frostbite, because Fraser checked him already for that.

Fraser’s rubbing his arms now, and pulling him real close, and there’s that ache again. It’s deep in Ray’s chest, so it can’t be from the cold. “Damn it, Frase, does everything have to hurt?” Ray’s mumbling. He doesn’t think Fraser hears him. Maybe what Ray’s saying is only in his head, which is probably a good thing, because he doesn’t want Fraser mad at him tomorrow for saying stuff that, you know, Ray never said before and probably shouldn’t be saying now.

But the ache, yeah. From Day One when the bullet whacked Ray in the vest, to now, when Fraser’s strong arms are wrapping around Ray and his sandpaper hands are rubbing Ray’s back, and Fraser’s legs are getting all tangled with Ray’s, this ache’s been in Ray’s chest all the time, and Ray’s not sure he realized what it was. He thinks he knows now, though.

Fraser’s warm breath is touching Ray’s ear and Ray realizes Fraser’s saying things like “My, you’re quite chilled, aren’t you?” and “We’ll warm you up now and then you can sleep,” and other dumb, obvious stuff. Problem is, Fraser’s saying this stuff in that fake, hearty voice he uses sometimes, and Ray knows that means Fraser is scared. And _that_ means it’s way past time for Ray to freak the fuck out--or is that fuck the freak out? Ray tries it both ways in his head a couple of times and he still can’t decide.

Anyway, Ray can’t get up the energy for a freakout, and, _hah_\--that apparently ain’t the only thing Ray can’t get up, because with Fraser’s hands on him and naked Fraser all over Ray, clinging to him, and hey, hey!--shoving his warm thigh between Ray’s legs, Ray ought to be up and at ’im, you know, but he’s not. His dick is a little tingly in a good way, especially when Fraser’s leg brushes against it, but Ray’s pretty sure his balls crawled up inside his body hours ago and his dick sure tried to, and he’s definitely not getting hard.

Which, that is probably a really good thing, probably going to save Ray a heap of embarrassment later, because Fraser feels so fucking good. His skin is really soft, his muscles are hard, his arms are snug around Ray, and his hands are rubbing Ray everywhere they can reach.

Well, except for that one place.

Fraser wouldn’t touch Ray _there,_ not on purpose, Ray thinks, and he giggles a little at the thought that if his dick wasn’t down for the count, he might be crazy enough to _beg_ Fraser to touch it, that’s how good Fraser feels to Ray.

After a while, Ray realizes that if something feels that good to him, he’s probably getting better.

In fact, Ray’s starting to feel so much better all over that his dick even twitches a couple of times. It feels like it’s waking up. Greatness, he thinks, Sleeping Beauty wasn’t dead after all. A kiss from the handsome prince and everything’s better.

Ray’s snuggled up against the handsomest prince he’s ever met, and if he doesn’t want to put the prince in an embarrassing situation, he’d better put the kibosh on that line of thought. So he leans his head on Fraser’s shoulder and listens, because he realizes Fraser’s talking, he’s _been_ talking while Ray’s been thinking about stuff Ray shouldn’t be thinking about.

“…environment is so hard on you. I shouldn’t have agreed to this trip before getting you bulked up properly,” Fraser’s saying. “You need more subcutaneous fat, some natural insulation…”

Ray’s zoning out on the words, but he hears a funny hitch in Fraser’s voice, and Ray does not like the sound of that. It almost sounds like Fraser’s crying. He’s not shedding actual tears, but there are definitely tears hiding there somewhere, maybe stuck in Fraser’s throat, and that means Ray needs to help Fraser now.

It doesn’t matter how tired Ray is, because Fraser’s _sad, _so sad he could _cry, _and Ray’s his partner.

“Red ships,” Ray tells him, jostling him a little, trying to hug Fraser’s leg with both of his. “Green ships,” he says. It’s hard to get the words out clearly, but Ray has to. “No ship like partnership. Hang in there, Frase, hang on. I’m here. I’m here, buddy. Not going anywhere.”

Ray thinks he feels a little touch of dampness on his shoulder. He does; Fraser’s spilled a real tear on Ray’s shoulder now, and that sends a spike of fear through Ray’s gut. He takes a deep breath and shoves Fraser a little and works his arms around Fraser to match Fraser’s arms around him, because he knows Fraser needs to feel him.

Ray tucks his nose into Fraser’s neck and inhales. Yeah, that’s Fraser, warm and northern-woods and crackling-fire good-smelling. Ray’s lips settle against the warm skin of Fraser’s neck. It’s not rough and stubbly like Ray is there, just soft and fragrant and warm, and Ray’s saying things into Fraser’s ear now: “It’s okay, Fraser, I’m okay, I’m warming up, I’m warm, feel how warm. I’m here, I’m gonna make it just fine.”

Ray realizes he’s not making this up; it’s true, he’s getting warmer and he really is going to make it, and he remembers that he can’t let himself fall asleep. Fraser has saved Ray’s skinny ass as usual, and Ray’s going to be fine; he’s just got to get his head clear.

“See, it’s working,” Ray says. “It worked.”

Fraser pulls his head back just enough to look at Ray, and Ray sees Fraser’s big dark-blue eyes, which still look kind of wet. “It worked?”

“’Course it worked, buddy, it was your plan.”

“Ah,” Fraser says, and it’s not the bad _ah_ anymore, it’s a much better one. “You’re sure?”

“Mm-hm,” Ray says, “this Plan B here is working. I’m warming up so fast. Can’t you feel me? Feel me.”

Fraser’s hands move on Ray’s back, brushing down Ray’s arms and then touching Ray’s ass, and oh yeah, Fraser’s feeling him all right. Fraser’s rough hands are both on Ray’s ass now, pulling Ray close.

Ray gets his legs around Fraser’s, and that puts Ray’s dick right in the neighborhood of Fraser’s. There’s a _lot _of Fraser-heat there, and it feels really good. Good enough to make Ray’s balls come back down into the warmth, apparently, because Ray can feel them heavy between his legs again, and Ray can feel his dick filling up, too, so warm now and twitching a little and butting Fraser in the stomach like it’s trying to get his attention.

A moment later, he realizes he’s getting poked in the stomach, too, by something warm and hard and a little wet, and apparently Fraser’s feeling the same way Ray is. Ray looks into Fraser’s eyes again, checking to see if Fraser’s okay with this.

Fraser’s eyes look kind of stunned, but the pupils are wide and black, and Fraser’s mouth is open a little bit and his tongue is licking his lower lip again and again. He looks like his breath is catching in his throat, too, or maybe he’s trying to figure out if he even _can_ breathe. His face is serious and a little scared. His lips move and start to form Ray’s name, but then Fraser sort of goes still, like he can’t move.

Ray blinks. He feels a lot clearer, but he’s afraid he still might be seeing things a little differently from how they are. He could ask Fraser, but words aren’t Ray’s best thing even on a good day, when he’s not hypo-whatever from too much cold and too little fat.

Ray’s better with action. He’s got an out if he’s wrong, because he can just claim he was off his nut, but his gut’s telling him that he’s _not_ wrong, that Fraser’s into this, and Ray’s not going to miss this chance. That sting in his chest, that ache, it feels like it’s come to the surface now, it’s right here on his skin. And he knows Fraser’s the balm.

So Ray breathes deep and leans forward just enough and puts his lips on Fraser’s, just like that.

That’s all it takes for Fraser to burst into motion. His tongue plows into Ray’s mouth and he’s kissing Ray for all he’s worth; he’s taking Ray’s mouth like he’s been waiting a century for this. Ray’s breathing through his nose and clutching Fraser’s broad back, and his hands are smoothing over Fraser’s big solid muscles like he’s been waiting a century, too.

Fraser breaks off the kiss to take a breath, and then he’s tucking his face into Ray’s neck and kissing Ray there, kissing and licking his neck, his ear, his throat, his jaw, warm and sweet.

If Ray was tingly before, he’s throbbing now. His dick’s heavy and full, and he feels wetness oozing out of him at the tip where it’s rubbing Fraser’s belly. His hips are moving; he can’t help it. He’s thrusting a little against Fraser’s smooth, smooth skin. It feels incredibly good. He’s moving his hands down to Fraser’s muscular ass, and oh, God, it feels as great as it looks, rounded and tight and _perfect._

Ray pulls Fraser in, thrusting at the same time, and their dicks touch, all soft fine skin and stiff swollen heat, and Ray’s already seeing the Northern Lights inside his head. He thrusts again, and then again. Fraser murmurs, “Oh, Ray. Ray!” and covers Ray’s mouth with his.

And it’s bliss. Fraser’s tongue thrusts into him and Fraser’s cock thrusts against the hollow of Ray’s hip in almost the same motion. Ray’s squirming and rolling a little till he can get his legs up and around Fraser’s hips and pull him in. Ray’s real flexible and his legs are long and he can_ hug _Fraser to him like that, and that is greatness.

Fraser comes up for air again and says, “Oh God, Ray, oh God, you’re so--” He jabs his cock three or four times against Ray’s groin and then goes still. His eyes squeeze shut, and he gasps, and he’s coming hot and wet all over Ray’s hip and his own belly. Ray grips Fraser’s ass tight and rotates his hips just enough so he can slide his cock in Fraser’s thick wetness again and again, and now he’s the one who’s yelling nonsense in his partner’s ear.

Fraser ducks down just enough to kiss Ray’s neck. He attacks it with teeth and tongue and lips like he’s hungry for Ray and can’t get enough. That’s it for Ray, that is _it; _his muscles lock tight and he feels like he’s trying to climb Fraser like a tree. He’s shouting and sobbing and he’s squirting hot come all over Fraser’s chest again and again.

Fraser’s hands are soothing him, rubbing over his back in big circles, easing him down, and Fraser’s lost that scared look, Fraser’s lost every look except amazed joy. And that--that is a fine thing to see. Fraser looks a lot like he did that day after he jumped out of the airplane and climbed up out of the big white freezing duvet of snow to find himself home.

“So this was Plan B? Is that what this was?” Ray’s laughing into Fraser’s ear.

Fraser gives himself a shake and seems to come back to the present. He cups Ray’s face in his hands. “Oh, God, Ray, I could have lost you.”

“Don’t start with that crap again.” Ray’s too happy to sound mad. He’s doing that blithering thing, but this time from feeling _alive,_ from feeling so damn good. “I got chilled, I got a chill. It happens. You been trying to fatten me up, and I should’ve told you it ain’t going to work. Don’t you think my mom tried, all those years? Don’t you think _I _tried, for boxing? I can’t gain weight, that’s not me. Scrawny all my life.”

“Lean,” Fraser’s correcting, and for once, Fraser correcting him doesn’t bother Ray at all. “Lean and muscular and taut. And so beautiful.”

Ray knows he’s blushing. “Aw, that’s not me.”

“Yes, it’s you. Beautiful. Handsome. _Striking.”_

“Wow. You really see that?”

“I do, Ray.”

Fraser doesn’t lie. He’s got this Mounties-don’t-lie thing; he doesn’t lie. Maybe he needs Ray’s glasses, but he’s not lying.

“Have you ever seen your smile?” Fraser asks him.

Ray shrugs. In photos, he’s seen it. He always thought it maybe looked a little sissy, so he didn’t like to look at it. His face got this softness about it when he smiled.

“It’s incandescent,” Fraser’s saying. “It’s one of the many things I love about you.”

Ray looks at him quickly, wondering if Fraser realizes what he just said. Not the incan-whatever thing, the other thing. “Did you, uh, did you mean…”

“Of course I did, Ray. I love you. I’ve told you before.”

Oh. Yeah. Ray’s told Fraser before, too, only he’s always kind of chickened out of saying it straight out, letting Fraser know what he really means. He knows now that Fraser’s okay with it, he’s fine with all of who Ray is, and there’s nothing Ray needs to hold back anymore, if there ever was. “I love you, too, Fraser. It ain’t brotherly and it ain’t symbolic. I love you for real.”

Fraser nods. “I know, Ray. I just didn’t know if you were amenable to…this….” He glances down between their bodies to where they’re all sticky with each other’s come and Ray’s softening up against Fraser’s belly.

“Oh, I’m _amenable_,” Ray says. It’s one of those things like “germane,” but he doesn’t need to ask, because it’s obvious what Fraser means. “I’m totally on board with it, Fraser. The sex thing, the love thing, I’m all over it.”

Ray hugs him hard and then starts unwrapping his legs from around Fraser because his left leg’s going all pins and needles under Fraser’s weight. Fraser’s dick is soft now, too, and the head is pulling back underneath the foreskin like a turtle who’s feeling shy. Ray bends down and plants a kiss right on the wet head. He licks his lips and tastes bitter, salt, _Fraser. _“Wow.”

“Wow, indeed.” Ray glances up to see Fraser kind of twinkling at him like he can’t hold back a smile, then Fraser loses the struggle and cracks a big grin.

Ray pulls himself up and kisses the hell out of that gorgeous smile.

After a while, they both lie back and yawn. When they catch each other’s eye, they both laugh.

“Frase?” Ray says. His eyelids are drooping a bit and he doesn’t want to keep them open if he doesn’t have to.

“Yes, Ray?”

“You think it’s okay if I sleep a little now?”

“Yes, Ray. I’ll stay awake and keep watch for a bit, but it’s not very cold tonight, and you’re clearly back to normal temperature. We could both do with some extra rest.” He puts his lips against Ray’s forehead and then against the pulse in his neck. It’s not a kiss, it’s Fraser’s way of checking Ray’s temperature, and Ray doesn’t know how Fraser does it, but if Fraser says Ray’s 98.6 or whatever normal is in Centigrade, then he knows a thermometer would show the same thing. After a minute, though, Fraser does kiss Ray’s neck, and that feels like heaven.

Ray’s sleepy in a good way now, though. “The dogs okay?” he murmurs in the middle of another yawn.

“All settled in for the night,” Fraser says. “I’ll call Diefenbaker in and alert him to your condition, and in case I nod off he’ll watch over both of us.”

“Good,” Ray says. “Because we both got to get some sleep. We need to be able to think straight in the morning.”

“Well, yes. As you know, I prefer to be clear-minded at all times, and it’s essential out on the ice,” Fraser says. He may be lecturing, but his voice is all lazy afterglow, and Ray could listen to a thousand lectures in that voice and never be bored.

“Yeah, yeah, but tomorrow it’s even more important,” Ray says. His eyes are closed now, but he’s got to tell Fraser this before he lets himself fall asleep.

“How so?”

“We got to make a new plan, Fraser,” Ray says. “After we get finished finding Franklin’s Hand, which we both know we ain’t going to find, we got to plan our next move. That’ll be Plan C, okay?”

Ray hears Fraser swallowing hard next to his ear, and he reaches over and grabs Fraser’s hand and squeezes it. “Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he murmurs.

“Ray?” Fraser’s kind of stammering, like he wants to ask something he don’t dare ask.

“Sh, Fraser. I got to sleep. We’ll work it out, I promise. Nobody’s going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. You want to stay in Canada, we stay. You want to go back to Chicago, that’s where we go. You change your mind and decide on Outer Mongolia, I’m there. Plan C is we plan together. You got me?”

“Oh, yes, Ray. But what about what you want?”

“Got what I want,” Ray says, and he says it real clear even though he’s already seeing dream-pictures starting in his head. He tugs Fraser’s hand and pushes back against him, and there’s Fraser, spooning up behind him, warm and comfortable like a big old blanket. Ray pulls on Fraser’s arm and gets it around him so that Fraser’s hand settles over Ray’s heart. “Got what I want,” Ray says again so Fraser won’t misunderstand. “Got it right here, understand?”

Fraser slides his other arm under Ray’s neck and it makes a great pillow, it’s so comfortable. “Yes, Ray,” he says. “I understand perfectly. Plan C in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Ray mumbles just before he drifts off. “Greatness. And after that I want to practice Plan B a few more times.”

He feels Fraser’s smile against his neck as he drifts peacefully off to sleep.

 

—end—

**Author's Note:**

> Written in June 2006 for [out_of_context](http://community.livejournal.com/out_of_con_txt/). For visionshadows, who requested a ficlet (slash, Fraser/RayK) and offered the prompt: "Perhaps we should rethink this plan."


End file.
